A POEM

UNTITLED

Of things that were and weren't

and should have been

Of things that happened

and didn't happen way back then

Of things that were said

and weren't said way back then

Of something, everything from that spring,

leading only to a summer's dream

From somewhere, nowhere a stranger came,

and from somewhere to nowhere, it's all the same

A friend that was, wasn't just then

and now things that were, weren't again

From a spring of hope to a summer of dreams

to a winter of nightmares it seems

There was NEVER any hope or dreams it seems

only a lifetime of nightmares again

From ending to beginning and back it came

to the same place it had been it was back again

A circle unbroken, a circle never broken,

just round and round and round again

From the same place it started

so there it ended

From here to there to NOWHERE!

SH

Started 05/21/98 12:40 AM

Ended 05/21/98 12:43 AM

Sorry so much was lost but my fingers couldn't keep up with the thoughts. See story below.

THE STORY

This is the story of how this poem came about, as best as I can tell it.

It was a Wednesday night (more precisely, a Thursday morn, since it was past mid-night). I shut down the computer as I normally do, just get off line and turn down the brightness and contrast. Turned off the lights in this part of the house and went to the bedroom to see if my wife was ready for bed--as usual, she wasn't. I sat down at the kitchen table and picked up a Ray Bradbury book that I had lying there. I found an earmarked page and started reading just to kill the time. After about 3 pages I suddenly found this poem flashing through my head, where it came from I didn't know nor did I know where it was going. I raced to the computer as fast as I could. While my MS Word was loading, more and more of the poem was disappearing. As soon as it finished loading, I started typing as fast as I could.

The part that you see above is all that was left by then. I've tried very hard to remember the rest of it but can't. I've gone back and re-read the same three pages in the Bradbury book but there is not a thing there that reminds me of this poem.

What you see here is exactly like it came to me and was typed as fast as I could. The only thing that has been changed is the structure of it slightly. It was originally typed as long sentences, with each sentence being comprised of two of the above lines.

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